


Headlong Into Ecstacy

by romanticalgirl



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 5/21/00</p>
    </blockquote>





	Headlong Into Ecstacy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 5/21/00

I’ve been here before, alone in the dark with a beautiful woman. I’ve been here before, in a bed, under the covers, naked flesh against naked flesh. I’ve even been here with you, fumbling and touching, tasting and exploring.

But I’ve never been like this, drunk on your softness, drugged by your beauty, intoxicated by your touch, completely out of control. Even my first time, I held on to my consciousness, determined to be good enough.

Yet lying here with you, knowing what’s about to happen, what’s going to occur between us for the first time I can’t help but tremble with a mixture of desire and fear. Do you have any notion of how long I’ve wanted this? How long I’ve waited for it? Do you know that for most of my life, you’ve been the dream girl surrounded by misty fog in my deepest dreams? You’re the one that filled my fantasies with your dark eyes and full lips, your golden skin and your silken hair.

I spent years dreaming about you, wanting you, coveting you. I wish I could claim noble intentions when it came to you, to waiting. I wish that I could be more than what I am, since I know that you deserve so much more than me. But I’ve done everything I can to make this pleasurable for you, everything I can to make you enjoy it as much as I know I will.

I know you’re nervous. I can feel you tremble as we lay beside each other, just staring at one another in the candlelight. I’ve made it romantic for you, knowing that you’re scared. Knowing that you never pictured it this way, here, with me. I would imagine that I am the complete opposite of what you imagined in every way. And I wonder if you know that thought is the one that scares me the most.

You’ve built this up in your mind, this amazing thing that only happens between two people in love. This beautiful expression of that love, signifying something so much more than just a simple joining, something more than pleasure.

You’ve built it up to be a monumental occasion, which is what it should be. But every time you’ve thought about it, dreamed about it, fantasized, or daydreamed about it, it was starring him.

And yet you’re here with me, the reality of the situation quickly becoming more clear in the moments we spend staring at each other. Your eyes are locked on mine, taking in the change in color from blue to green to hazel to gold in my eyes as the light reflects in them. You’re looking at my hair, dark even in the darkness, especially dark compared to his.

You’re looking at my body, so aroused for you, so desperate for your touch and the feel of you, and so different from his. Do you think about that when you hold me? How different I feel from the boy you grew up with, the boy you fell in love with? Do you think about he’s thinner and shaped differently? And I wonder, even though I hate myself for wondering, if you compare me to him and find me lacking…in any way.

When I lie here with you, I hate that he’s in the room with us. And I fear that he always will be. The saddest thing is that I don’t know which of us brings him here, which of us invites him in between us to keep us apart.

I’ve spent the entire summer wanting you and showing you that, because I love you, I want to wait until you’re ready. And tonight, on the way back to the boat, on the night before we’re supposed to sail back into Capeside, you’ve whispered the words to me.

“Make love to me, Pacey?”

I don’t remember how I reacted in the wake of those words. I don’t remember if I held you or kissed you or picked you up. I don’t remember if I said yes or thank God or it’s about goddamn time, Potter. I only know that you said the words I’d been dying to hear and you stood on your tiptoes and you kissed me. You brushed your lips against mine, you let your breasts touch my arm, let me feel the tightness of your nipples before you stepped away and headed for the boat.

I don’t remember following you down here, don’t remember which of us lit the candles. I remember shedding my jacket and tie and kicking off my loafers. And then I looked at you, standing there with your gorgeous hair piled up on top of your head, and you met my eyes.

And I remember everything after that.

You held my gaze and you reached up, unhooking whatever magical contraption you were using to hold your hair up and you let it fall. It cascaded down your neck and shoulders, showering you with waves of silk. And then, you’d reached behind your back and slid your zipper down. The dress pooled at your feet, leaving you naked except for the pale pink panties you wore.

I watched in amazement as you continued to watch me stare at you, as you lowered the thin silk to the floor with your dress. Tilting your head, you smiled and sat on the edge of the bed before lying back on it. You stretched out like a contented cat, lying on your side as you stared, your eyes never leaving mine.

I stripped out of my clothes, without any of the elegance you had just displayed. I rushed and hurried, afraid that you’d find something lacking in my body, perhaps, but most likely that you’d notice, once and for all that I’m not him. I’ve been in his shadow so long, Joey, I can’t recognize the sunshine. Sunshine like the bright ray of your smile as you watched me kick off my slacks and stand there before you in a pair of well-worn boxers that did nothing to hide how you make me feel.

The cotton piled on the floor nicely next to my slacks and I moved beside you, which is where I am now, lost somewhere in the vast canyon of distance that spans the few inches between us. I raise my hand to push back the hair that has fallen in your eyes and find myself falling even further, even faster.

I see something there that I thought I’d never find. Something that I thought you and I were incapable of, something that stayed hidden for so long between us. I see the soft glimmer of emotion, dancing in those dark secrets of your eyes and I smile.

You love me.

Maybe it won’t ever be the love you feel for him, and I don’t know that I would want it to be. I don’t want something that used to be Dawson’s. I want something that is ours and ours alone. Something that has nothing to do with you and Dawson, or me and Andie, or you and Jack, or me and Tamara. I want something that is only about the two of us, our history and our present. I want something that is uniquely Pacey and Joey.

Something that I think maybe you’re offering me.

I lean in and brush your lips, letting the moist heat of my breath play over your skin. Do you feel every touch like I do? Does it feel as though you’re hyper-aware, every molecule of your body focused on what’s happening between us? Do you feel every touch as though it’s been magnified to the optimum exposure? Because when I touch you, it’s like an explosion inside me, a million fireworks set off in my central nervous system, sending shocks of desire through me like a hot knife through butter.

You lay back so trusting, you eyes locked on mine. You won’t look away, which gives me courage that I never would have thought I needed. I continue to touch your face, tracing it with soft, gentle strokes of my fingers and thumbs, committing you to memory. Your skin is like velvet or satin or some other material that only women or musicians in the 80’s wore, and I can’t get enough of the feel of it.

I let one hand make its way down your neck to your shoulder, marking a trembling path of tentative seduction. I want you to burn for me, but I’m so afraid that this is going to end up being a mistake you regret, I’m so afraid that you’ll end up saying no and I won’t have the will or the strength to stop.

I work my hand down your arm and then let it rest on your hip. I brush the line on your skin where your tan ends and want to tease you about not sunbathing in the nude, but I can’t. As much as repartee has been a hallmark of our relationship throughout our lives, I can’t bring myself to spoil this moment with banter. The only words that come to mind are about love and promises, wanting and needing you in my life. And I’m just as afraid of those words as I am of saying the exact wrong thing in a glib moment.

Perhaps because I’m afraid that those words are also the exact wrong thing.

My hand shakes as it moves over to your flat stomach. My thumb dips imperceptibly in your navel before continuing up, learning you. I’ve held you a lot this summer, hugged and kissed you, danced with you, touched you…but nothing can compare to this moment out of time when I’m loving you.

I’m loving you, Joey. Do you know that? Do you know that love is what is behind all this? Behind risking my friendship with Dawson, behind every move I made, every word I said? I love you with my heart and my soul, and very soon, I will with my body. And nothing frightens me more than the thought all of that might not be enough for you.

I cup your breast now and I notice that your breathing is frantic, fast paced and heavy. Your eyes are almost closed, the lids heavy and your lashes fluttering. Your mouth is open in a soft O, the harsh indrawn air rushing past your lips and ruffling my hair as I lean my head down to place a kiss in the valley between your breasts.

My thumb is busy now, running along the underside of your nipple, touching it ever so lightly. I revel in your shivers of desire, the soft moans of pleasure, the small upward thrusts. Bringing my forefinger to the other side of the hard tip, I massage it between the two fingers and pinch it lightly. You cry out quietly, arching off the bed. Unable to resist, I let my lips replace my fingers and I suckle you, my dark head buried against your alabaster breasts.

The hand I’ve so recently touched you with slides underneath your back and I arch you toward me just enough that your breast fits in my mouth perfectly. My other hand, which has been stilled for too long, runs along your thigh, dancing over golden skin. I feel your legs shift apart, just from the light touch of my fingers, and I let them venture down, exploring this new and wondrous world you’ve opened up to them.

The dark hair at the apex of your thighs is soft like down, silky and rough all at once. I want to bury my face in it, inhale you so deeply inside me that the scent of you will never leave me. I want to make you part of me, keep a piece of you safely locked away in my memory so that nothing, not even you leaving me for him, will separate us completely.

After tangling in the hair for just a moment, my fingers slide down and brush the swollen lips of your labia. I can picture the pink skin, aching to be touched and kissed, nuzzled and sucked, just as your nipple had. Slipping past the begging flesh, my fingers seek out and find the hard nub of your clitoris, engorged with desire and heat. My thumb plays with it as you writhe in my embrace and I cast a glance at you as I slide down your body.

Your chest is heaving with exertion, the new experiences causing reactions I have only dreamed about evoking in you. Your eyes are closed tightly, unused to the swimming sensation that accompanies the rush of orgasm that runs through your body. That’s what those soft earthquakes you’re experiencing are Joey, that’s what the wet rush of desire is, moving down to meet my probing fingers.

Your passage is wet and slick with your arousal as I slide a finger inside you. I can feel you clutch around me, your muscles fighting the invasion even as your legs spread further to accommodate me. I continue to move down your body as my fingers find their way deeper inside you, barely touching the barrier I know awaits me.

Finally between your thighs, where I’ve longed to be, I replace my thumb with my tongue and capture your clit between my lips. I may not be the most skilled lover, Joey, but I swear that everything I learned I will use to take you to heights you never thought possible. I use every trick, every secret that Tamara taught me to drive you as far out of your body as I can, sending you spiraling through the stratosphere before you come crashing back into my arms.

My fingers and tongue work together in unison and I thrust down into the bed, aching to be inside you. But I want you to be ready for me, relaxed and willing, aching for me to fill you in ways you’re finally becoming ready for. I feel you clench and relax, over and over, as your body seeks release from the tension that we’re creating. You’re fighting it; I can feel your stubborn resistance. Pulling back from you, licking you from my lips, I look up over your exquisite body and smile at you.

You’re staring at me; your eyes alight with desire and wonder. I want to reassure you with words, but I know that words always get me into trouble. Instead I smile at you and lower myself back to worship you. I feel the tension leave you as my thumb and my tongue join forces to send you crashing over the edge, not caring that you’re falling headlong into ecstasy.

I continue tasting your skin as you slowly come back to earth. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins like the water outside, lapping at the sides of our boat. When you shiver and tense, I pull away, looking down at you with everything you are to me in my eyes.

You’re slick with sweat and arousal, your body glistening in the flickering light. Without words, I lean into you and kiss you, letting you taste yourself on me. You once said we tasted good, Joey. I wonder if you had this moment in mind.

You kiss me quickly, blushing at the intimacy. My erection is trapped between us, hard and throbbing, growing impossibly harder as the heat of you blankets it, rising up from our nearly joined bodies. Opening the small stand beside the bed, I pull out the drawer and find the unopened box of condoms you brought with you one night after you’d gone to the store for supplies.

“Think of them as another lifejacket,” you’d whispered as you handed them to me, dancing out of my reach as I denied any such thoughts.

You knew I was lying then. You always know when I lie.

I can’t believe I’m still shaking, or am I shaking again? I manage to get the condom out of the wrapper and slide it on my erection, all the while feeling your eyes on me. I look down at you as I move back just a bit, pressing the tip of my sheathed cock at your opening.

You always know when I lie.

“I love you, Joey.” I whisper the words as I push in, more truth in them than in anything I’ve ever said. I slide in slowly, letting you get used to me. I need you so much, and I want this to be perfect, but it’s taking all the control I have to keep from filling you.

I feel the thin barrier and I know that I’m going to hurt you. I lean forward and kiss you, kiss your closed lids with tenderness I’ve never known before as I push my hips forward. I’m surprised when you push up to meet me, although I suppose I shouldn’t be. You’ve always known what you wanted, Joey, even if you haven’t always been willing to go out and get it.

We start moving together, and for a moment, I forget that this is us and I just lose myself in the feel of you. You’re like a pool of heat bathing me in your embrace, drowning me in the molten liquid of your arousal.

You moan softly and I come back to us, feeling your body under mine, around mine, feeling me inside you. We move as one, thrusting and meeting, melting and meshing until we’re lost in something bigger than both of us. I can feel it building in you, the release I’ve longed to give you ever since the first time I touched you. I can feel it and I wonder if you’ll take me with you over the edge.

You pant my name softly with every stroke and the fear and doubts that have plagued me this too-short summer begin to recede. I push into you, burying myself inside you, losing my heart and soul in the process as you clamp your thighs tight around mine and cry out, the hot rush of your climax like a haven for my still thrusting cock.

I reach for nirvana; my hips meeting yours in wild abandon now, knowing that we’ll both be exhausted when it’s over. My hands tighten on the sheets beside you and I want to come. God, I want to come inside you so deep and hard that I’m lightheaded with just the thought. But the shadow of him still lingers, even now that you’ve given yourself so completely to me. I want to give in, but I can’t if he’s still there.

In your heart.

I ache for you. My heart and my body both burning with something far beyond passion and this moment in our lives. This is about something more than this summer, Joey. Something more than soul mates. Something more than us both.

I want to come inside you, be more than your first orgasm. I want to be more than the man who took your virginity.

“I love you, Pacey,” I hear you whisper.

And I lose control, content to be this.

Your first lover.


End file.
